


The Way War Leaves Us.

by Penryn3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penryn3/pseuds/Penryn3
Summary: She could feel it; the grit of sand against her skin as the sea water soaked through the fabric of her jeans.





	The Way War Leaves Us.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.

Hermione barley made it to the bathroom before she lost it. Panic attacks had been running rampant since the end of the war, and they plagued her frequently. She couldn't even make it to the stall, instead dropping down against the wall, leaning her head back against it and wrapping her arms around her legs. Great sobs were clawing their way up her throat, so large that she could barley gulp in enough air around them as her throat constriced and tightened. She could _see_ the chandlier falling, _hear_ the crystal shattering. She could feel the grit of sand against her knees as sea water soaked through the fabric of her jeans.

Breathe. Breathe. _Breathe!_

The door banged open and Hermione's heart sank as Pansy Parkinson walked in. They locked eyes and Hermione struggled to hold her gaze, great gasps punching in and out of her lungs as the tears continued to flow. Understanding dawned on Pansy's face and her red lipsticked mouth thinned into a hard line. She pulled out her wand and murmured something under her breath. Hermione barely registered the sound of the lock clicking shut over the roaring in her ears. 

_Breathe._

Pansy walked to where Hermione was sitting and stared down at her for a moment before lowering herself down to the floor next to her, mirroring Hermione's pose as she pulled up her legs and rested her head against the brick, staring straight ahead. Her movements were slow and careful, as though Hermione were a bird that would fly away if startled. Hermione figited, her numb fingers plucking at her sweater, pulling it away from where her long-healed _Mudblood_ scar felt raw and stinging. 

Ten minutes passed, then twenty. 

Pansy didn't say a word, just sat silently next to her as Hermione fought for control; her skinny shoulder a warm weight against her own, grounding her. Hermione half wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, the girl who had tried to make her life hell was now the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart. It was almost funny, how they had survived a War only to be left so broken. She probably would have laughed, if she had been able.

Eventually, her breathing steadied, the heaving in her stomach reducing to flutters.

She turned to Pansy, feeling small. Pansy rolled her head to the side against the wall to look at her, the blunt edge of her sleek black bob falling across her cheek.

"I'm sorry. I don't even, It's just -" she stopped, words failing her.

_Everything_ , she finished silently.

The Slytherin girls lips quirked into a small sad smile.

"I know." Pansy replied.

Reaching down she interlaced her fingers with Hermione's and squeezed. After a moment, Hermione squeezed back.

_Just breathe._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are lovely!


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